Author's Note- So this was originally written to get over my writers block for my other story, Rebounds and Wingmen. But I liked it so much I thought I'd post it to thank my reviews for R&W. So enjoy the first part of what I'd written, and tell me what you think!

Disclaimer- I own nothing. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

Crashed Into You

Chapter 1

EPOV

It was all the sun's fault.

I was having a miserable morning as it was. I'd lost a client the evening before, and my boss wasn't too pleased with me. Even Emmett, one of my roommates, couldn't cheer me up with his plans. It was Saturday, and he wanted to go "scope out the mall". In Emmett's world, that meant going to check out girls at the mall. Jasper and I usually went along to keep him out of trouble. Last time we hadn't gone he'd been kicked out of Victoria's Secret.

But before Emmett could wake up and push us out of the door, I decided to go for a run at the park. Jasper was already awake and watching a Dr. Phil rerun when I came downstairs.

"Where are you going?" he asked, looking up from his corn flakes.

"The park. I'll be back soon," I replied, and grabbed my keys before he could say anything else.

Jasper had a way of making you feel better, and right now I needed to wallow in self-pity. Usually that made me think better, and I needed to figure a way back into my boss's good graces. The run would be the perfect opportunity to wallow and get some thinking done, away from my obnoxious but good-meaning room mates.

Fate, however, did not seem to be on my side. I had barely pulled out of the house and started down the road when I realized I'd left my sunglasses at home. The sun was bright, which was unusual enough for Washington at this time of year. But I didn't want to be squinting the whole time I was at the park. With a sigh, I turned my car back around and returned to the house, resigned.

Jasper looked up as I came back in, in a considerably worse mood.

"Forgot my sunglasses," I muttered.

They were sitting on the counters in the kitchen, surrounded by the pizza boxes and dirty plates from the night before. I made a mental note to do the dishes when I got back. It was Emmett's turn, but he never remembered.

"See you later, Edward," Jasper called as I shut the front door behind me again.

My car was still cold when I got in. The heater hadn't kicked in yet, and this October was unnaturally cold, even for Washington.

I pulled out of the driveway again, and started down the road. The vents finally started to blow hot air, and I shook my head a little to relax.

It was a lot less irritating in the hot air than the cold.

I pulled out onto the highway, letting myself relax into the familiar rhythm of driving. The leaves were blown off the asphalt as I drove, letting myself gather speed. I settled just above the speed limit, enjoying the adrenaline as it pumped through my system.

Then my CD skipped. I frowned as my day again continued to go downhill. I made these CDs myself, burning my favorite music onto CDs to play in the car.

It skipped again, and I let out an irritated growl. I took one hand of the steering wheel, pressing on the eject button a bit harder than necessary. The CD slid out of the stereo system, and I grabbed it with my free hand. A quick glance showed me a scratch down the side of the CD that had definitely not been there yesterday when I put the CD in.

"Perfect," I murmured.

I threw the CD onto the passenger seat beside me, and reached behind my seat for another CD. My hand hit something sharp, and I felt the edge nick my finger.

I drew it back quickly, looking at the thin line of blood on my finger.

Could this day just get any worse?

Angry now, I turned my head quickly, trying to peer into the back seat to see what had cut me. A broken plastic CD case stuck out of the pile, and I frowned at the irritating piece of plastic.

Something squealed around me, and I looked quickly back to the road. I saw red: a red car swerving to get out of my way. I was in the wrong lane. I slammed on the breaks but it was too late. The breaks locked and I skidded straight into the other car.

BPOV

"Rose, I'm not borrowing your car," I insisted, searching the drawer for my keys.

My roommate didn't even look up from her fashion magazine before replying, "Fine. You can take Alice's Porsche. But you're not taking your truck."

"Rose, you really don't want me driving your car," I said, pushing aside some junk mail Alice had thrown in the drawer last week.

Rosalie snorted, and said, "Honestly, Bella, I'm not too worried. I can fix just about anything you can do to that car. I'll have your breaks done by this afternoon, but you can't take your truck out before that."

I frowned, and then asked, "Have you seen my keys?"

Rosalie smirked, and then said, "Alice hid them before she left. She doesn't want you taking your car either, not with your breaks as bad as they are. I can't believe you let them get that bad."

"They're fine," I insisted, "And I'll be fine. I just need to run to the grocery store, or we won't be having dinner tonight."

Rosalie sighed, and set down her magazine. She eased out of her stool at the counter, and went over the basket by the door. She drew out her keys and threw them at me. I made a pathetic attempt at catching them, but hand-eye coordination had never been my thing. They hit the linoleum floor and slid until they hit the stove.

"There," Rosalie said, "Take my car. I really don't care."

As much as she said that, Rosalie's car was her baby. I just didn't feel comfortable taking her car. And Alice wasn't here to offer me her Porsche. She'd gone for her morning run, and I couldn't wait for her to get back. That, and Alice's Porsche was way more powerful than Rosalie's BMW, and therefore scarier to drive.

I didn't respond, but reached down to grab the keys before turning down the hall to my bedroom.

"Don't try looking for your keys!" Rosalie called, "Alice hid them well."

"Stupid little pixie," I hissed, grabbing my purse, "Stupid supermodel Rosalie."

Rosalie had gone back to her magazine when I walked back into the kitchen.

"I'll be back in a half hour," I said, "If Renee calls, do not tell her about my truck. She'll freak."

Rosalie just nodded and turned a page.

I went out into our garage, sighing as I passed my trusty red truck. Rosalie's car was next: a shiny red BMW. I frowned at it, cautiously opening the driver's side door. I'd driven Rosalie's car a few other times before, but never alone. Like I said, Rosalie doesn't trust many people with her beloved car.

I pressed the garage door opener, and waited for it to open, slowly. When it was finally open I pulled out of the driveway, waving to old Mrs. Studdeffen, our neighbor, who was pulling her trash cans back up in what looked like a house dress. I shook my head, glad Alice wasn't here to see this. Or Rosalie for that matter. Ever since we'd moved into the condo that summer, Alice had been insisting "glamming" up our condo. Knowing we had a neighbor who owned a housedress, much less wore it outside, would traumatize her for life.

The drive into town was quiet. There were hardly any other cars on the road, for which I was glad. Rosalie's car attracted enough attention as it was; I didn't need anyone seeing me behind the wheel of it.

I had almost reached the town when I saw another car on the road, coming from the opposite direction. For some reason, my driving instructor's words suddenly popped into my mind.

"Never trust anyone on the road."

She'd more or less shouted it at me as I learned how to "claim an intersection", but I'd forgotten about it until now.

I smiled a little to myself, remembering my quirky driving teacher. But my smile quickly faded as I watched the car approach.

What was it doing? Was the driver drunk?

I watched as the car slowly swerved into my lane, and waited for the driver to correct himself. But they didn't, and the car was going too fast.

My body reacted without my mind, gripping the steering wheel harder and pulling it away. But it wasn't fast enough, and I shut my eyes as the steel screamed around me.

EPOV

My head swam. Things slowly began to come back into focus. I heard shouting, a voice shouting instructions. My eyes focused on a face outside the window of my car. I turned my head a little, and pain shot up my neck. My windshield was broken, and glass was sprinkled all over me.

"Hold on, sir, we're going to get you out!" a voice shouted beside me.

The scene around me swam, but I could see the dull yellow of the firefighters' uniforms. Most of them were grouped around the other car.

The other car.

Oh, God. I hit someone.

The realization hit me and brought everything into focus. My body screamed in pain, and I couldn't move. I needed to move. I needed to get out of the car and make sure the people in the other car were okay.

What if I'd killed someone?

Vomit rose in my throat, but I pushed it back down. I turned to look at the firefighter working outside my car. He kept looking apprehensively over to the other car, and that gave proof to my realization. Whoever was in that car was definitely in worse shape than I was.

"Are they okay?" I choked out.

The firefighter turned to look at me, and then answered, "We're going to get you out, sir. Hold tight."

I tried to nod, but the action hurt.

I grimaced, and the firefighter noticed.

"Does your neck hurt?" he asked.

I ignored him, watching as they pulled someone out of the red car.

All I could see was that the person was slight, small, with long brown hair that hung over the arm of the firefighters pulling her out of the car.

I'd hit a young girl.

What had I been thinking? Why hadn't I been paying attention? How could I have let this happen?

As they laid the girl's limp body on the waiting stretcher, I felt the bile again. I was a monster for having killed the girl.

"Okay, sir, you're going to hear a loud noise. But that's just the machine were using to cut you out, okay?" the firefighter asked.

But I was watching the paramedics working over the girl, pulling her towards the waiting ambulance.

The cutting sound didn't surprise me; my senses were still too dull.

They pulled me out of the car, and laid me down on another stretcher. I tried to ignore the pain that shot up my body with every jolt, and managed to just grimace or groan rather than scream.

I was lifted into the ambulance beside the girl, and the paramedics immediately started to work.

"Is she going to be okay? The girl in the car?" I asked, ignoring their questions.

"She'll be fine, sir. Please, do you have any allergies?" the paramedic, who looked barely older than I was, asked.

"No," I replied, trying to look underneath his arm to the girl.

If she died, it would be all my fault. The paramedics should just leave me alone, I'd be fine. They needed to help her.

But they continued to pester me with questions as they examined me from head to foot for injuries. I mostly ignored them, watching the girl on the stretcher beside me. They were doing the same for her.

Then I heard a little groan and a murmured, "Ow."

She was awake. Thank God.

"Crap," she whispered, "Crap, crap, crap!"

"Please, ma'am, you need to calm down!" the paramedic told her, his voice shaking.

Was it his first day on the job or something?

"I'm fine," the girl murmured, "I'm fine."

She was most definitely not fine. Again, that was all my fault.

"The other car?" she asked, "Are they okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, my voice cracking.

"Ma'am, I need you to tell me where you hurt," the paramedic ordered.

"I'm fine," the girl repeated. Apparently it was her mantra or something.

I heard her gasp, and my eyes immediately shifted to find her.

"You put me in a neck brace?" she cried, "I'm fine, please take it off!"

"Ma'am, you might have hurt your spine. We need to keep this on until the doctor can examine you," the paramedic explained.

I heard an annoyed groan beside me, and the paramedic shifted a bit so I could see her arms. I couldn't help but notice the cuts, probably from all the flying glass.

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to make my voice carry over to her.

I heard another sigh, and then her voice. "It's okay. Really. I'm fine."

Again, her mantra.